


Ice Cream Date

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blindness, First Dates, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 14:03:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10765734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Nyx decides that it's time to take Noct out of the Citadel for some ice cream.





	Ice Cream Date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JazzRaft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/gifts).



> Prompted twice over at my [Tumblr](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/). Set into my [Blind Faith](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10619184/chapters/23486166) fic.

There were very few occasions where Nyx was actually able to take Noct outside of the Citadel. It was happening more and more frequently now that Nyx was dedicated to Noct as his personal Glaive— drawing on his fledgling magic, borrowing from that well of Lucian power Noct was still just dipping into— but it was still a rare occurrence. A welcome one, of course, particularly in the heat of the summer months, where even the cool shadows of the royal apartments felt stifling without a proper breeze. 

The Citadel had every comfort, but there was something to be said about going to a street market for an ice cream or crushed ice treat.

Nyx knew for a fact that Noct had already gone a few summers without the trip down to the streets. A few summers since Cor had started travelling away from home a little bit more, or was caught up in things that even the Kingsglaive weren’t privy to. Nyx hadn’t wanted to suggest the outing because it had always seemed like he was assigned the simple duty of watching over the Marshal doting on his prince— tagging along with an uncle taking a nephew out for a treat.

He had never been a part of it. Just sort of the shadow that followed along. 

He hadn’t thought to suggest it, as Noct sprawled on his bed and whined about the heat. Not until there was a meeting with Regis and his council of advisers, and another, and another. Noct was never expected to contribute to them, just listen, and learn, and understand the choices a king needed to make— the decisions that would fall on his shoulders. 

“I swear, when I die, use the name ‘Noctis the Melted’ instead of ‘Noctis the Blind’ on my tomb,” the prince whined; “And bury me somewhere cold.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic, little prince,” Nyx smiled as he tapped the prince’s foot before sitting on the edge of the bed. There was no training today— not with the flurry of Crownsguard drills, with the sudden training being allotted to Prompto. Noct, for the most part, was set aside and expected, as always, to behave in his tower. “It’s not that bad.”

“No, I know. But I’m still going to complain about it.”

“Then let’s head outside.”

“You do understand that it’s warmer outside, right?”

“Yes, but there’s also ice cream out there,” Nyx was grinning when he stood, patting Noct’s shoulder as the prince balanced himself on his elbows, brow furrowed as he considered the suggestion. “My treat.”

It was a long moment as Noct thought it over, before he slid to the edge of the bed and felt for his boots. “I’ll never pass up you buying something.”

“Thanks, your highness. Glad to know you want to see me poor.”

“You’re the one who offered.”

“Won’t be doing that again.”

Nyx didn’t know what had been happening in the kingdom to draw attention away from the usual duty of guarding the prince, but he was going to take advantage of it. He didn’t mind the lack of attention on himself, but he knew that Noct was starting to pick up on it too; that the prince was noticing the new sense of quiet, the way his world seemed to be getting smaller with fewer voices and new steps. That despite the promise of travel outside of the Wall, the world was narrowing down to just four or five regular, familiar voices. He knew that Noct was acutely aware of the isolation he was starting to face with the assumption that he would always be safely kept in the towers of the Citadel. 

The fight against the suffocating quiet, just like this attempt to stave off the boredom and heat, was becoming a habit. Nyx knew that it could get him into trouble. That it could get Noct into trouble. 

But no one was going to question the Hero of the Kingsglaive as he walked the Crown Prince through the imposing halls and out a small side door that only saw use at a shift change. 

Once out on the street, he slung an arm around Noct and guided the prince through the plaza and to a small, bustling street that made up a pedestrian mall. 

“Where are we going, Nyx?” Noct asked once he noticed the new sounds— the little bells in shop doors, the chatter, the foot traffic and lack of cars. “The shop we used to go to was off the main street.”

“We’re not going to that place, that’s for you and your uncle,” he squeezed Noct’s shoulder to quiet his amusement; “so I’m taking you somewhere else, little star.”

“Little star?”

“It’s new. I like it.”

“You’re such an idiot.”

“Yup,” Nyx was still grinning, still happy to be out in the sunlight again, instead of the dark walls and room. Happy to have the breeze funnelled down between the building to cool them off a bit in the afternoon heat; “But you’re stuck with me now.”

Noct paused at a sudden sound— an espresso machine kept close to the cafe entrance, hissing through the doors splayed wide for the day— before he elbowed Nyx in the ribs. “But ‘little star’? At least saying ‘little prince’ is accurate.”

“But not as cute. And you, little star, are cute.”

“I’m the heir to a kingdom, I can become a living weapon, how am I _cute_?”

“It just seems to be your natural gift to be utterly adorable, your highness,” he liked the prince like this— smiling, out in the open air, even if he was still being a little brat. He liked to see that weight of status and responsibility lifted from those shoulders, even if for just a short time. He like to see the prince as just _Noct_ again.

“I really hate you.”

“What kind of ice cream do you want?”

“Whatever gets you to shut up.”

“Doesn’t exist,” Nyx prodded Noct towards the vendor he could see at the intersection up ahead, the soft chime every time he opened the little freezer unit to scoop out a flavour carrying with the voices of the citizens around them. He could see the way Noct was listening to the voices, the new and changing noise around him as they moved away from the shops and closer to the little Lucian street market that skirted the pedestrian mall. He could see the way Noct was stepping more carefully as they passed the barrier from retail to stalls and carts set on a cobblestone path. Ahead, it would open up to a park— a little grove of market charm cut out of the forest that made up the city skyline. But they didn’t need to go that far. Not this time. “There’s strawberry, caramel, vanilla, and chocolate.”

“Strawberry, then.”

“Good choice, little star,” The order was quick and easy, and not in the Lucian language. The vendor was a man he knew in Galahd, who one ran a bakery and sweets shop back before the Nifs made their move. Nyx had heard he made it through the attack, made an escape. And started fresh like the rest of them. He smiled at the look of recognition and pride, paid the man the usual compliments to his business, as he would if he was back home. He refused the offer to haggle over the price, and grinned as the man’s eyes widened when he saw the prince taking the first cone from Nyx’s hand. 

It wasn’t until they were a few steps away that Noct spoke again, brow furrowed again as he thought over what he had just heard. “Was that Galahdian?”

“It was,” for the first time in a long, long while, Nyx was glad that the prince was blind; that he couldn’t see how he was being watched. How Noct couldn’t see that Nyx was anxious for the prince’s reaction to the foreign tongue he rarely, if ever, heard. “Why?”

“It was… nice,” Noct licked his lips before he nudged Nyx’s side; “Can you teach me?”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Good point,” Nyx relaxed, having been around enough Lucian bigots to know that Noct was not one of them. Could never be one of them. That he wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t his own curiosity driving it. “When do you want to start?”

“Why not today? I haven’t been summoned to any new meetings.”

“As soon as I get you home, then.”

Nyx didn’t miss that grin, that promise of mischief he was used to from the prince. Usually not so directed at him; “I’ll walk you home, hero.”

“You think the Citadel is my home, little star?”

“Isn’t it?”


End file.
